Malleable Destiny
by lxmacks
Summary: The summer before the Chamber of Secrets is opened, Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban and kidnaps Harry Potter, dramatically altering the course of Harry's second year.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Disclaimer:

This story is based on the Harry Potter series belonging exclusively to J.K. Rowling and her publishers, and no profit is made from it.

The boat drifted softly in the water as I lay with my back against the bow, one hand balanced over my eyes to block out the sun, the other dipping smoothly through the waves. The granules of dried salt stuck enticingly to the fresh varnish, to my hair, my lips. We jolted through another wave, and a small crest splattered my legs and seeped through my jeans, my equilibrium shifting pleasantly.

I peered through a jagged hole in the skiff's side and twisted my right sun-blocking hand through it. The water was cold, almost frozen, and so over salted that when the skiff would bob suddenly to its right, the water would momentarily recede, and I was left with a solid glove. The first time this happened, I pulled my arm back through the rift in the wood, indifferent to the pricks of the splinters as they embedded into my skin, and licked curiously at my thumb. It was a spicy, alluring taste, not unlike cinnamon. Immediately, I engulfed my entire finger, then my hand, and did not cease until the entire substance had vanished. Then, I returned my hand to its position in the crack and slumped again onto the sticky bow.

My armpits were dripping with sweat, and my hair was matted from the varnish. I would have to go to the market tomorrow and fetch some proper, non-generic toiletries. The ones currently in use were irrefutably not up to snuff. I took another disparaging sniff at my shirt and grimaced.

Hmm… what I would not do for some chocolate banana ice cream…

And I drifted…

-

"What do you suppose he dreams about?"

Paul Isely wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, squirming self-consciously in his robes. He only owed the one set, spending the rest of his life in comfortable cotton and denim. There was something about the scratchy wool that most wizarding robes were made from that brought back unpleasant memories from his childhood, of his sneering and obnoxious relatives and their antiquated beliefs.

"Black?" The guard leaned toward the bars, inspecting the prisoner's face with curiosity. He smiled slightly and looked back at Paul.

"Honestly, I haven't a clue. Normally, it's obvious with these bastards, you know, debauchery, bloodshed, and cruelty. Black though…sometimes he murmurs, you know…like he's talking to someone, I think maybe his old friends, from Hogwarts, you know, and then he'll wake up, begging for forgiveness and pleading his innocence. Mostly though…he's like this, just…lost."

The guard shook his head.

"I've only been on duty here for a couple weeks, and I already feel like I've gone just a little bit mad. I can't imagine…eleven years. Not that he doesn't deserve it, just that…you know."

He coughed and cracked back nervously.

"So, then, procedure. I go in, cuff him to that post in the corner, and you stay out here. Then we switch. Sound good?"

Paul nodded from behind him.

The guard unlocked the door and warily approached the sleeping pile of rags in the corner. He nudged him gently with his boot. No movement. Shrugging, he levitated him to the corner, oriented upright, and muttered a spell that handcuffed his two wrists to the stone post. As soon as he released the levitating charm, Black slipped once more to the filthy floor, now with his arms raised awkwardly above his head. The guard scrutinized him for a moment before turning back to Paul.

"Right. As soon as you're ready, then… Stay as far away from him as possible, when you're not…you know."

The guard winced and made an exaggerated motion towards his left forearm.

"I don't think that he'll wake, seems pretty far gone, but if you won't let me stupefy him, I can't guarantee anything."

Paul smiled reassuringly at the guard.

"I'll be fine, don't worry. I worked with him last Thursday without any complications."

Paul lifted his tool case from the dusty floor and passed through to the cell, kneeling hesitantly beside the prisoner. He pushed back the faded sleeve from Black's left forearm and closely inspected the mangy and discolored skin, then opened his black tool case, revealing a variety of medical utensils, a large bottle of antiseptic, and a jug of water. It was for this last that he reached. There was something definitely satisfying about swiping a cotton swab over dirty skin and wiping away the filth.

The guard had lost interest, moving a few paces away and whistling _Pickled Newts_ song to himself. Good. Some people didn't respond well to the sight of other people's blood.

Paul lifted the needle from its treasured hiding spot and placed it against Black's arm, preparing to puncture the skin. He paused momentarily to frown at the unmarked skin. It was so odd, that this notorious Death Eater lacked the macabre tattoo that was present for every one of his comrades. There were many puzzling things about Sirius Black, about this whole situation. He didn't fit into any of the Ministry's precise categories and justifications, and since the Magical Law Enforcement's most recent foray into the past, they hadn't been able to get any useful information out of him.

Unknown to Dumbledore, the Ministry of Magic had indeed been informed of Voldemort's appearance at Hogwarts at the end of the school year _and_ that he had been aided by one of the school's own professors. Not all of Hogwarts' professors were as loyal to the headmaster as he believed, and while they might not betray him to Voldemort, their morals didn't stretch so far as bountiful ministry bribes were concerned. Fudge was still intimidated of Dumbledore's power and influence that he would not publicly act against him, but he had ordered that all of Voldemort's imprisoned Death Eaters be interrogated immediately on the chance that they might have some clue to his whereabouts. So far, there was nothing concrete, and the longer he went without information, the more desperate Fudge became, until he summoned Paul and others like him.

Most wizards avoided squibs as much as possible, especially those like Paul who had chosen to live in the muggle world. He worked for the muggle government as a an intermediary to the Ministry, but he spent most of his time experimenting with their medicine, developing ways to mix potions with muggle practices to achieve better results. But, of course, rather than be used to heal people, his methods were more often used for things like this…

He plunged the needle a little harsher than necessary into the blood vessel.

Black gasped, and Paul was suddenly staring into the startled black eyes of a murderer.

"What the hell…"

Black moaned and yanked his arm away, disrupting the needle and causing Paul to blink up at him.

"Hello Black. Could you please cooperate for a few minutes? I only have two to give you, and then we'll be done for today"

Black swallowed and sucked in his greasy cheeks, his eyes calculating. He darted his eyes quickly to the guard, then back to Paul.

"Tell me more, like the last time. Please…"

Isely closed his eyes. This was wrong. He had a job to do, and while he didn't condone the Ministry's techniques for dealing with prisoners, Black had slaughtered thirteen innocent people without remorse.

"Please. Just a little bit more... I need to know. It's my right. He's _my_ responsibility!"

Black had leaned forward, his face inches from Paul, his eyes burning.

"Fine."

Black licked his lips in anticipation, his eyes even brighter. He braced his feet against the floor, pushing himself closer, so that Isely could whisper and be heard.

"But only if you cooperate."

A quick nod.

"So, I already told you, my niece is a forth year Hufflepuff, so they don't often cross paths." He sanitized the skin again, this time gently forcing the needlepoint in and smoothly siphoning off blood.

"Still, sees more of him than I do, doesn't she? And I'm his godfather."

Isely didn't look up from the blood work, stifling his reply. He had chosen to interact with Black of his own free will because it was unlikely that he would ever leave Azkaban, or meet Harry Potter. The least he could do was show him some human compassion…

"Have I told you about the Hufflepuff game yet? Janie, my niece, was so upset afterwards. Her boyfriend's on the team, a chaser, and when Gryffindor beat them in under ten minutes, he wouldn't stop sulking for a month."

The blood work was done. He moved over to his improvised workstation and slowly deposited the blood in a jar partially filled with a clear potion. He put it off to the side and looked up into Black's gleaming eyes, a grin slipping onto his face.

"I'm not sure if he intended to do it, but rather than catch the snitch with his hand like a normal boy, he swallowed it, and by the time anyone else noticed, there he was in the middle of the pitch, coughing it up."

He started to prepare the injection, a mixture of Veritaserum and muscle relaxant, to ready Black for his next visitor. When he returned to the prisoner, Black was staring, fixated on the needle.

"I'm sorry."

He always felt awful at this moment, but at least Black would be comfortable as the aurors questioned him.

"That's alright. So am I."

Before Paul could react, Black lurched forward, crashing their foreheads together, and then, his legs locked around Paul's neck, crashed his head into the solid stonewall.

The guard had entered the cell, raising his wand to curse Black and yelling fiercely, but in the place of the ragged prisoner, there was a great black dog, his yellowing teeth bared. In the instant of shock at the dog's sudden appearance, Black slipped his narrow paws through their fastenings and leapt. The beast's momentum crashed into the guard, knocking the wind from his chest. The massive jaws latched onto the guard's hand, gouging into the skin, and he howled and dropped his wand. With one strong swipe to the head from the dog's front paw, the guard joined Paul Isely in oblivion

The dog wobbled up from his perch atop the guard and grasped the wand from the floor with his teeth. A moment later, a human Sirius Black surveyed the damage he had caused. He stunned the guard to ensure a head start and then limped over to Paul. He was bleeding slightly and would surely have a splitting headache when he woke, but his breathing was deep and regular.

"I really am sorry." Sirius Black leaned over Paul, wiping some of the blood off his forehead.

"You've shown a great deal more kindness to me in the past few weeks than I've probably deserved, and this isn't exactly the best way to repay you for it. You understand _why_ I must do it, though, I know you do. You would have done the same for that niece you care about so much. It's my duty to protect him, my responsibility…"

Mindful not to injure Paul Isely's body any more than he already had, Sirius dragged him so that he was lying next to the guard, and then, with one last deep breath, he blasted a hole through the prison wall and jumped into the frigid sea two stories below.

-

Remus Lupin sat anxiously at his kitchen table, reading and rereading the front page of the Daily Prophet, his morning tea clutched in his right hand. He was normally a calm man, melancholy, yes, but never particularly nervous or frenzied. This, however, this was too much! He had never imagined, never thought…He took a deep breath, leaning his head against the table.

Just then, the fireplace sparked and a flame formed even from the logs stationed there. There was a polite pause during which Remus collected himself and sat on a worn pillow before the face of Albus Dumbledore appeared. From what Remus could see, he was elegantly clad in dark blue robes, an unusual choice for the normally flamboyant professor. His expression was grave, his eyes dull.

"Hello, Remus. I'm terribly sorry for so rudely interrupting your breakfast, but I'm afraid it's quite urgent."

Remus nodded, encouraging the old headmaster.

"Is this about him? About…Black?"

"Yes. I need you to come to Hogwarts immediately. We believe that Black has kidnapped Harry Potter. He disappeared last night, shortly after receiving a Ministry notification of underage magic use. At the time, Black's escape had not yet been revealed, so the Ministry didn't send anyone to check on the situation, and by the time the wards informed me that he had left, it was too late. We need any information you have, no matter how irrelevant it might seem, about Black and where he might be hiding."

Remus stared blankly at the headmaster, trying in vain to process everything. After all that had happened, he still could not bring himself to believe that Sirius, his best friend, the man who had spent five years mastering the animagus transformation, would ever want to hurt an innocent twelve year old boy.

"I'm sorry to give you this burden, my dear boy, I know your life hasn't been easy these past few years. I was actually planning a visit to you before the escape, wondering if maybe you'd finally be willing to accept my offer. We need you more than ever now. The only person who's shown any interest is Gilderoy Lockhart, and you and I both know he's a fraud. You always showed an unusual acumen for defense, and I suspect you would make a gifted and attentive professor."

Remus' jaw hardened and he nodded once firmly. If Sirius had really resorted to kidnapping children, perhaps it was his responsibility to teach them how to defend themselves.

"I'll do it, and Professor, there's something I need to tell you, that I should have told you a long time ago, but was too ashamed…"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Disclaimer:

This story is based on the Harry Potter series belonging exclusively to J.K. Rowling and her publishers, and no profit is made from it.

_Harry looked up from the letter and gulped._

"_You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school," said Uncle Vernon, a mad gleam dancing in his eyes. "Forgot to mention it…. Slipped your mind, I daresay…."_

_He was bearing down on Harry like a great bulldog, all his teeth bared. "Well, I've got news for you, boy…. I'm locking you up…. You're never going back to that school…never…and if you try and magic yourself out-they'll expel you!"_

_And laughing like a maniac, he dragged Harry back upstairs._

(Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, chapter 2, page 21, US version)

Uncle Vernon shoved Harry roughly into his room and with one last parting smirk, shut the door and locked it harshly. Harry could hear him huffing down the stairs and then his gruff voice as he comforted Aunt Petunia.

For a moment, all Harry could do was stare blankly around at his bedroom, allowing himself to process everything that had happened in the past few hours. He did not doubt that Uncle Vernon was telling the truth. Now that he knew that Harry could not defend himself, he would imprison him in this bedroom and limit him to the most basic necessities. He had done it often enough before Harry had received his Hogwarts letter, locking him in the cupboard for weeks at a time and only letting him out to go to the bathroom.

But, back then, Harry had no friends to miss, no life to regret not living.

If he didn't do something quickly, find some way to get out of here, he would never return to Hogwarts and never see Ron and Hermione again. But the door was locked, and the only way he knew to open it was with magic,and he couldn't do any of that without his wand, and _it_ was locked in the cupboard under the stairs with all his other magical things. Even if he somehow managed to retrieve it and used it to escape, the Ministry would expel him before he could explain.

Harry let out a frustrated sigh and collapsed onto his bed. He could hear the sounds of gunshots and squealing car tires from the T.V. downstairs. Mr. Stevens, who lived across the street, was taking out the trash, the plastic containers shuffling roughly across the gravel. Harry got up to watch him. He had stopped to yell at a man who had left his dog's mess in the middle of the sidewalk.

He couldn't go back to this life, this meaningless, bitter life, without magic, without anyone who cared about him. He wouldn't. There must be some other way. If he could get out of this room, then maybe he could figure out a way to send a message to the Weasleys, or, better yet, to call Hermione.

He broke into a smile for the first time in weeks. Dobby would probably intercept any magical type of communication, but he hadn't stopped Ron from calling earlier in the summer, and if he could just get to a phone and call Hermione…

Harry appraised the area outside his window more closely. It was a fifteen-foot drop, too far to jump, but if he was very careful, he could swing himself onto the porch roof and find some way to get down from there. But once he did get down, how was he going to ever get to his trunk? The Dursleys always locked the front door before going to bed.

His neighbor was still arguing with the dog walker. They were both yelling and gesturing emotionally while the man's bored German shepherd sniffed the Stevens' roses.

He looked to be around forty, good-looking in an intelligent, sophisticated, mature way. He was dressed nicely in a dark blue button down shirt with rolled up sleeves, beige corduroy pants, and brown dress shoes. He had neatly trimmed facial hair and wore a black fedora. During a pause in his tirade, when he had accepted a baggie from Mr. Stevens and was bending to scoop, his dark eyes met Harry's, and he winked at him.

Actually winked!

Then he twitched his sleeve slightly and an inch of polished dark wood slipped into his hand. Harry's eyes widened and he leaned as far out of the window as he could without falling into Aunt Petunia's hydrangea bush.

A wizard! A wizard, in Little Whinging. It was unbelievable. He doubted that there had been any others since Dumbledore left him here as an infant, and to be doing something so normal as walking a dog…

But, perhaps he shouldn't be so surprised. Dumbledore was an influential wizard, wasn't he? Maybe he had somehow heard of the Ministry letter and had sent someone to check on him, or maybe the Ministry itself wanted to monitor his behavior more closely, in case they needed to expel him. Whoever he was, though, he might be able to help Harry escape, or at least contact the Weasleys for him. It crossed his mind briefly that this wizard might somehow be connected to the danger that Dobby had mentioned, but he dismissed it immediately. Dobby was irrationally paranoid, and this man certainly seemed harmless. He even had a feather sticking out of the side of his fedora.

Harry flung himself into the seat at his desk and scribbled a quick note describing the situation and pleading for the stranger's help. Then, the paper scrunched into the hood of one of Dudley's broken toy cars, he turned to the window, to throw it to the man, but the street was empty. Both the wizard and Mr. Stevens had disappeared. Harry banged his fist against the windowsill in frustration and chucked the car at one of Mr. Stevens' trashcans anyway. It wouldn't do any good now, but he was too agitated to care.

His earlier burst of optimism had died out and his plan to leap across the side of the house seeming more and more idiotic. Harry glared at his locked bedroom door. If only he could pick locks! Fred and George probably knew how. If he ever got back to the magical world, he would be sure to ask them to teach him.

He turned off his desk light and slumped into the narrow bed. Hopefully, the wizard had realized some extent of Harry's predicament, although how he had no idea, and would return to rescue him. If not, then maybe Dumbledore would come when he didn't show up for the start of the school year. If only he had shouted at the man, or done something…

Harry was startled out of his thoughts by the soft thud of something landing on the sheets next to him. He felt around for a moment before his right hand touched the cool metal of Dudley's tiny red Chevy. He hurried over to his desk and switched the light on again, popping the hood open as he did so. His note was still there, but someone had responded on the other side.

_I understand and will help as much as I can. Be ready. I will come when your Aunt and Uncle have gone to bed. _

_-An old friend and ally_

Harry felt let out a sight of delighted relief and quickly checked the window to see if the man was outside. He was there, standing beneath a dusty streetlight, but he was now without his dog. When he saw Harry, he gave him an exaggerated then apparated away with a soft pop. Harry's heart beat unsteadily in his chest as he gathered his muggle clothes into a pile on his bed and wrapped the sheet around them. It was almost ten O'clock now. The Dursleys would go to sleep at exactly eleven. He went around his room and stuffed the few possessions that the Dursleys hadn't locked up into the bundle on his bed. When he had finished and the room was completely devoid of Harry Potter clutter, it was 10:05, so he sat down impatiently at his desk to wait. He frowned enviously at Hedwig who was still sleeping soundly in her cage. She hadn't stirred once since before Dobby arrived.

The program downstairs had changed to something quieter, and Dudley soon came up to play one of his videogames. Harry wandered restlessly over to the bookshelf and grabbed Dudley's discarded copy of Treasure Island to pass the time.

Just as expected, at precisely eleven O'clock, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon came trundling upstairs, and with a quick goodnight to Dudley, entered their bedroom. Five minutes later, heavy snores reverberated from both sides of the house.

Harry stood expectantly. There was a light tapping on his bedroom door. He hadn't heard any footsteps.

"Come in."

There was a click as the lock was undone, the door swung open, and the wizard entered with a flourish.

"Harry Potter," he stretched his hand out for Harry to shake, "it's a pleasure."

Harry shook his hand, feeling uncomfortable. He still wasn't accustomed to how people reacted to him the first time they met him.

"Umm…it's nice to meet you too, sir."

The man was watching Harry carefully. Harry just smiled and nodded politely, unsure of what he should say. The man seemed much thinner up close, almost emaciated, and his face was gaunt and shadowed. He looked like he hadn't eaten or slept in days. If Harry were honest with himself, he found it a little bit intimidating.

"What happened to your dog?"

"Oh," He smiled wickedly, "you mean the Shepherd." He shook his head at Harry. "That was no dog, but rather a transfigured house mouse. Quite well done I must say, except for his tendency to spontaneously leave droppings everywhere, as you saw for yourself. It got your attention though, didn't it?"

He regarded Harry with amusement for a moment, but when he noticed that his attention was making Harry uncomfortable, he focused on the sheet-encased mound on the bed.

"So, I see you have all your things together."

"Uh…yeah…well, everything except my school books and cauldron. They're locked up in the cupboard under the stairs."

Sirius frowned understandingly at him.

"After tonight, you won't ever have to return to this place again."

His voice was calm and deeply confidant, his eyes locked with Harry's.

"I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking, leaving you with them_…_"

Before Harry could stop him, he poked menacingly at Harry's sheet mound and it shrunk to the size of a grapefruit.

"What did you do that for?" Harry looked angrily at Sirius, and he looked blankly back.

Then, with a raised eyebrow he said, "Well, obviously, because it makes it easier to carry. Everything would have fallen out if I had just tried to lift it with that flimsy knot you tied-no offence."

"Didn't you read my note!? I got in trouble with the Ministry because a _house elf_ did a hovering charm here, and they thought it was me. They threatened to _expel _me if there was any more magic done here. You were supposed to help me, not get me expelled!"

He looked expressionlessly at Harry for a moment and then burst into laughter. Harry was more than a little offended by the inappropriate emotion and briefly worried that the noise would wake Aunt Petunia and Uncle Dursley. That's all he needed now, for them to come in here and gloat and tell him once more how much a failure he was and then maybe what freaks his parents had been.

"Don't worry kid. As soon as the Ministry realizes that _I'm_ the one doing the magic, they'll have more important things to worry about than expelling you."

What was that supposed to mean?

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He looked grimly at Harry for the first time.

"Harry, I…there's something I need to tell you before you agree to leave with me, because, once I do, I don't think you're going to want to be anywhere near me."

He was gripping the doorknob tensely, as though preparing to flee as soon as he had spoken.

"My name is Sirius Black." He paused here, watching Harry warily as though he expected him to react in some way.

"Y-you haven't heard of me?"

"Uh, sorry, but, no. I've only just entered the wizarding world, you see. That's one reason I'm so eager to _stay_ in it. There's a lot I don't know."

The man, Black, seemed to be debating what to say next, but then, in a soft, croaky voice he said, "I-I'm your godfather, Harry."

"What? No, no that's not right." This didn't make any sense. "If I had a godfather, if _you_ were my godfather, then surely someone…Dumbledore would have told me. I wouldn't have had to live with _them_ my whole life. I-I would've…."

Black looked sadly at him, hopelessly shaking his head. "I'm so sorry Harry. I never meant to leave you, but I didn't have a choice. Please, please believe me."

Anger was steadily replacing disbelief.

"You're not kidding, are you? This is for real. I…why didn't anyone ever tell me? Why didn't you ever visit me? All this time, I could have lived with you, instead of…" He gestured vaguely at the wall. "…Instead of with them."

"Harry, I swear to you, I wanted to, I wanted to so badly. I thought of you all the time: what had happened to you, what you might look like, who might be taking care of you instead of me. I never imagined that Dumbledore would bring you here, though. I wanted so bad to be there for you Harry, I really did, but I couldn't, not until now, I couldn't…"

"Why not?! You could have at least sent me a letter, or something, a quick phone call, you know. I don't need much. I've _learned _to be self-sufficient, I've had to, living with the Dursleys."

"Because…because, for the past eleven years, I've been locked away…in Azkaban."

"_Where_?"

"Azkaban. It's the wizarding prison."

"So, what, you're some kind of _criminal_?" Harry was nonplussed. Maybe this was the Dursleys' idea of a sick joke, to punish him even more for not being able to do magic. It did make a bizarre kind of sense, that if there were link to his parents it would be in the form of a mad escaped convict. It fit the pattern of his life.

"No!" Black darted toward Harry, his hands reaching out to him, but at Harry's startled look, he paused. "I'm innocent. I was framed Harry, you've got to understand."

Harry couldn't take much more of this. It had been an emotionally exhausting night, and he felt as though if he were told anything more, he would burst. His eyes flicked to Black's clothing, his feathered mobster hat, and suddenly he looked ridiculous, a mockery of his words.

"If you just escaped from prison, they _why_ are you wearing those clothes. They don't exactly seem like standard prison uniform."

Black was legitimately flummoxed, and then obviously embarrassed.

"Well, I had to steal them, didn't I? I couldn't go around in the tattered robes I was wearing. They would have discovered me, and then, what would have been the point of escaping. I'm not proud of what I've done Harry, but I didn't commit the crime that I was imprisoned for."

"Why should I believe anything you say?"

"If I had wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already. You're unarmed and virtually untrained."

Harry fidgeted. That certainly didn't make him feel anymore secure. Black tried again, gaining momentum as he spoke.

"Your parents trusted me, enough to make me your godfather. I was friends with them at school, your father's best mate. When your parents got married, he chose me as his best man. I was the third person to hold you as a baby, the one who convinced your dad to buy you your very first broomstick. They loved you so much Harry. I wish you could know that."

Harry didn't know what to say. There was a part of him, a very large and Hermione-like part, that was screaming at him not to trust the escaped and possibly deranged convict, but another, growing part was urging him to trust him, to just…go with it. He had always fantasized about a long lost family member to sweep him away from the Dursleys, and although he had imagined that it would be someone more like Arthur Weasley than a recently escaped convict, it was what it was.

Besides, he looked so desperate that Harry couldn't help feeling sorry for him.

"Please…believe me…" Sirius clenched his fists and looked around frantically. "Can't you just believe that I would never hurt you? I don't have any proof now, but I can get it…if you'll just come with me. I _promise_ I won't hurt you. That's the last thing I'd do…"

Harry's first reaction was a vehement no. Even if he was a friend of his dad's, maybe he had betrayed them and that's why he was in prison in the first place…but if he stayed, he would be locked up again in this tiny bedroom, never to see Ron or Hermione, or anyone magical ever again. He would rather face the unknown than that horrible fate.

"Alright."

Black took a step back in surprise, his eyes wide.

"I'll come with you, but on one condition. Promise, if for whatever reason I decide to leave, you'll let me, without trying to stop me."

Black grinned at him.

"I'll do better than that." He grabbed Harry's hand and raised his wand above it.

"I solemnly swear, upon my life, upon Merlin and the Marauders, that I shall never consciously hurt Harry James Potter and that, should he ever wish to leave my company, I shall let him go freely." He tapped Harry's hand, and he could feel a burst of something in his chest telling him that the magic was true.

"So, um…did you have some plan for getting us out of here?"

Black was still somewhat gaping at Harry, and it was unsettling, to say the least.

"Yeah…I have a, a uh, a portkey, somewhere in here." He rummaged through his pockets for a moment and finally pulled out a crumpled candy wrapper. "Ah, here it is."

"A candy wrapper." Harry was beginning to question Black's sanity in addition to his innocence.

"What, haven't you ever seen a portkey?" Harry shook his head.

"Well, they're a bit unpleasant at first, but you'll get used to it, and they go much farther distances than apparition."

"Where, exactly, are we going?"

"Oh, just an old family property." Harry wondered whether he was being purposefully vague. Black had grabbed both Harry's handful of laundry and Hedwig's cage and swiftly moved out into the hall. Harry was quick to follow. This wizard might have his eccentricities, but anything was better than life at Four Privet Drive, and no matter where they were headed, at least it couldn't be worse than life with the Dursleys.

By the time Harry caught up with Black, he had already unlocked the cupboard under the stairs and unloaded Harry's trunk. He glanced up at Harry as he stepped off the stairs.

"Do you mind if I open your truck for a second…just to put this in." He gestured at the sheet lump. Harry shook his head, and he quickly dropped the package into Harry's trunk.

"Alright," he said, standing and facing Harry, "whenever you're ready…" He held the empty candy wrapper up to Harry.

"Can I just…if you expect me to trust you, then you should at least let me get my wand."

"Of course." Black stepped aside and allowed Harry access to his trunk. He snatched it out quickly and pushed it up his shirtsleeve as he had seen Black do earlier.

"So, if you're ready now, just grab hold of the wrapper and make sure that you've got a good hold on your trunk…there, that's right."

Black smiled at Harry as they grasped the two ends of the small piece of plastic, their hands bumping awkwardly together, and he couldn't help but smile back, despite the strangeness of the situation.

"Ready?" Harry nodded, and Black, holding Hedwig's cage clutched under his elbow, tapped the candy wrapper lightly with his wand.

A/N

Thanks to Ilene, ams71080, adenoide, xdreamlessxvoyeurx for reviewing, and for everyone else just for reading. I hope that neither Sirius or Harry come across as too OOC in this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Disclaimer:

This story is based on the Harry Potter series belonging exclusively to J.K. Rowling and her publishers, and no profit is made from it.

Portkey travel was unlike anything Harry had ever felt before. The ground disappeared beneath him and with it 4 Privet Drive. It was thousands of times faster than a tire swing, the pull at his navel thousands of times more insistent. The mass of his trunk was swinging harshly against his side, bruising his ribs. The world was an unpleasant swarming blur. This was nothing like the rushing agility and speed of his nimbus; this was pure, unrepentant agony. It must have been at least a minute when he finally jolted to a halt and fell clumsily face down onto the ground.

Hedwig had finally woken and was hooting shrilly.

Harry's rib cage was aching, and his head lurched obnoxiously. What coherent thoughts he had were focused so entirely on his disorientation that it took a few moments to realize that there was more than ordinary dirt and grass smushing his face. He slowly extended his arms and pushed himself onto his knees.

He was lying in a bed of green foliage so thick that he could barely see any of the soil. There were plants with large wide leaves whose stems drooped under their weight and ferns with long, thin, spiky leaves. Broad, soaring trees stood hauntingly beautiful beside awkward young saplings. They were contorted and bulging, wrapped in languidly twisted vines and roots absorbing the nutrients from the already depleted earth.

They were in… a jungle.

It was already dark, a huge moon flushing the area with light. They stood on a little hill. Through a break in the vegetation, Harry could see a few miles beyond, to higher hills that went up into the sky and were enveloped by the fog.

"Where are we?" said Harry in wonder. Black came up to his shoulder and smiled contentedly at his awed expression.

"Brazil. My great-uncle Alphard lived here when I was a kid. He was a bit of a recluse and he loved nature, so he moved here, built the ah…house, and put wards up so that no one could disturb him."

He gave Harry a nervous look.

"Harry, I don't want to scare you with this, but Uncle Alphard only ever gave me access to the wards, and to include you, I'll have to take some of your blood. Once we've done it, though, we won't ever have to again, I promise."

Harry nodded absently, still completely floored by his surroundings, and Black carefully placed his wand against Harry's hand. With a quick whisper, a cut sliced through his palm. It hurt…a lot and reminded Harry of the circumstances. He couldn't let down his guard. If Black was dangerous, then giving him free access to his blood probably wasn't the brightest idea. It was too late, though. Black had already gathered some of the blood with a leaf and dripped it onto a large rock a few feet away from them and then added some of his own. There was a moment in which Harry wondered whether it had worked at all, and then there was a rustling of the leaves above him, and when he gazed up into the canopy, he saw it.

It was nestled snugly thirty feet off the ground between several enormous trees. Its walls were made from the crisscrossing branches of those trees, the roof, from the leaves. A rope ladder hung down from one of the supporting branches.

"What do you think?" Black was watching him carefully.

Harry grinned up at him and said honestly, "It's magnificent."

And it was. There was nothing ordinary or boring about _this _house, if it could even be called a house. It blended so well with the trees that it wasn't imposing or pretentious…it just was.

Now that he was here, in this lush, beautiful place, far away from the Dursleys, it was hard to feel anything but wonder and joy. He would listen to whatever Black had to say, and he hoped desperately that he was innocent so that he could stay here, just a little bit longer. The farthest he had ever been was Hogwarts, and that was still in Britain. This…all this…was so surreal. He felt like he had when Hagrid first told him that he was a wizard, a mixture of disbelief and euphoria. Except, Hagrid, despite his size, had never been convicted of a crime and sent to prison. The worst he had done was get expelled from Hogwarts. Harry would have to remember that. Black had promised to prove his innocence. If he couldn't, Harry would have to find some way to escape. He felt for his wand to make sure that it was still secure in his shirtsleeve. It was.

"We'll have to take this, to get up there," Black said, gathering the ladder with one of his hands "We can levitate your things up afterwards. Ready? You go first; I'll stay here and hold the rope steady."

Harry nodded and quickly approached the ladder. He had always wanted a tree house with a rope ladder just like this, but of course, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would never allow something like that in _their _back yard.

It was harder than he had thought it would be to climb, and the robe scratched unpleasantly against his skin, but it helped that Black was holding it, and the rush of adventure surpassed discomfort. When he reached the top, he grabbed hold of one of the branches and pushed himself inside.

It was completely bare except for a faded purple tent in one of the corners. He leaned over the side of the house to see that Black had already scrambled halfway up the ladder. Harry waited patiently, surveying the landscape with wonder. The view was even better than from the ground. When Black's head appeared, Harry extended his arm to help hoist his body over the edge, and then Black levitated Harry's belongings into the house. Hedwig was squawking and turning frantically, so, with Harry's permission, Black unlocked her cage and she flew over to a nearby tree.

He turned and faced Harry, the tension surrounding them strange in this tranquil environment. He was no longer smiling, but instead, his features were set, resolute. Each determined crease in his face seemed to focus toward the center, bracing to uncoil. He motioned for Harry to sit on the surprisingly soft and mossy floor while he disappeared into the tent. He returned a moment later with a large basin and two cokes and potato chip bags. He passed one set to Harry and sat cross-legged across from him with the other. To give them more light, he conjured a glowing sphere and adhered it to an overhanging branch.

"My Uncle was a bit obsessed with muggle food. He put preservation charms on everything, so it should be fresh, but don't be surprised if the coke's gone flat by now. I haven't been here since I was seventeen, and I doubt anyone else has either."

Harry gazed warily at the soda. He wasn't so much concerned about its fizziness as…other things.

"I haven't poisoned it, if that's what your thinking."

Black looked sincerely insulted. He had already finished his chips and was halfway through his own coke, and it hadn't been fifteen seconds.

"Here." Black, disgruntled, reached over to Harry's soda, popped open the lid and took a long swig before handing it back to Harry.

"Nothing wrong with it."

Harry tentatively took a small sip from the can, and let out a sigh of pleasure.

Black grunted in agreement.

He took a long sip from his coke can and then fixed his eyes on Harry.

"I'm going to be entirely truthful with you Harry. I want you to understand that. I know I haven't done anything much to earn your trust, but if you could just have a little more faith…I'll do my best to make this as quick and thorough as possible. There are some things that are better shown, then told, and that's what this is for." He indicated the basin. "It's called a pensieve. It allows a wizard to view a memory as if he were experiencing it himself. If you want, you can try it with one of your own memories first, to prove that it works, but I guarantee that it will. Many wizards use them to clear their minds and to make difficult decisions. I believe Albus Dumbledore possesses one himself."

Harry gestured for him to continue. He felt bad now for being so suspicious.

"Right. Well, I was born to a traditionally dark family, mostly Slytherins…Voldemort supporters. That's one reason why my uncle moved here: to get away from all of _them._ I was determined to do the same, so when I got to Hogwarts, I avoided my older cousins and stuck with kids I knew were from light families, like your dad. He and I got along instantly."

Black smiled sadly at Harry.

"You remind me quite a lot of James. He was always willing to go looking for a little bit of adventure…

"We, along with two other boys, formed the Marauders, one of the most troublesome, rebellious gang of jokesters Hogwarts has ever seen. We did everything together.

"We even became animagi together. We could each transform into an animal at will. It took a lot of time and research, so we didn't manage it until fifth year, but the benefits far outweighed the labor. We made up nicknames for each other based on the animals we turned into: Moony, Padfoot, Prongs, _Wormtail_."

Black had been gazing dreamily out into the darkness, resting his chin on his joined fists, but as he pronounced the last name, his back straightened and he stared intently at Harry.

"It is Wormtail who is to blame for all this. He betrayed your family to Voldemort and condemned me to eleven years of misery and mental torture."

Harry was startled by the bitterness of his tone. With his sudden passion, the carefree style of his speech altered, and he began to annunciate each new word clearly, as though with rehearsed delivery.

"Voldemort's rise to power terrified as all, forced us to do things we never would have contemplated, to examine every gesture and every word from even our closest allies for deceit."

He had begun to fold his chip bag in his agitation, collapsing it into a square the size of his thumbnail, but to emphasize his points, he would suddenly release it and jettison crumbs across the earthen floor.

"Dumbledore was convinced that Voldemort was after your family, so Lily and James decided to go into hiding under the Fidelius charm, which conceals the casters permanently and impenetrably. Only one person, their secret keeper, is aware of their location, and only he can reveal it. Dumbledore performed the charm, and your parents made me their secret keeper, Harry. Eight days later, Voldemort came to Godric's Hollow, murdered your parents, and gave you that scar."

Harry stood uneasily, his wand trembling in his hand.

"S-So what you're telling me is that you betrayed my parents to Voldemort. They died because of _you?_ I don't understand." It didn't feel right. Logically, he felt that he should be furious right now, outraged at his parents' traitor, but the way that Black had told his story made it feel like there should be something more, a punch-line. He seemed too human, sitting there, suddenly calm, almost sacrificial, with his folded chip bag and his funky hat.

"You're lying, aren't you? You wouldn't be here if you'd done it. You would have killed me by now, or brought me to him..."

Harry was gaining confidence in his conviction.

"I've met him before, at the end of last year. He's cruel and unrelenting, and…and he doesn't provide refreshments to his prisoners after they've already been captured, so… unless Voldemort's hiding in _there…"_Harry pointed to the squashed purple tent. "…Which…which doesn't exactly seem like the kind of place he'd, you know, chose as his evil lair, or…" He had run out of things to say, desperately hoping that he was right, but fortunately, Black, who had burst into laughter, interrupted him.

"No need to worry about that. There are no evil dark lords hiding in_ that _tent, although Uncle Alphard _did_ have a rather extensive stuffed serpent collection."

He stood slowly and hesitantly approached Harry.

"You're right. I wasn't your parents' secret keeper. We thought I would be too obvious, so without telling Dumbledore, we reenacted the ritual with Wormtail as secret keeper, and he was the one who betrayed your parents to Voldemort. No one else knew of the switch, so when the news came that he had come for you, I was the obvious traitor."

Black gently placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and looked firmly into his eyes.

"I'm sorry Harry, for deceiving you, but I _am_ largely responsible for your parents' death. _I _convinced them to choose Wormtail. I should have known better.

"When I found their bodies, I became enraged. I left you with Hagrid to track Wormtail down. I needed revenge. I caught up with him in the middle of muggle London in a crowded street, but rather than fighting, he shouted to everyone in the street that I had betrayed Lily and James. Then, he blew a gigantic hole in the ground, killed twelve muggles, and disappeared into the sewer as his rat animagus form."

"And you were blamed for it."

"Naturally."

Harry was beginning to believe that Black was actually telling the truth, but first…

"The memories, you said I could see."

"Right, umm…if you're sure. Some of them get kind of graphic, what with dismembered body parts and what not from the explosion, and…your parents..."

Harry suppressed a darting surge of panic at the image of his parents' dead bodies, but a morbid curiosity was growing within him.

"I think it's best if I see, just to be sure."

"Of course. This will just take a second." Black began to carefully draw silvery memory strands from the side of his head. He placed each lightly into the pensieve.

"I'll wait inside, if you don't mind. Experiencing them once was quite enough for me. You just, dip your face in and the pensieve will take care of the rest. If you need to leave before the memories are over, just will yourself to return."

Without hesitation, Harry approached the basin and plunged his face into the misty liquid.

-

Sirius stood next to the pensieve for a moment to make sure that Harry would be all right and slipped into the tent. It was an expanded two-bedroom tent that would easily fit them when cleared out, but at the moment, it was so cluttered with junk that there was hardly room to move around. The pantry was well stocked, and the preservation charms had been done by a master, but the abundance of useless magical artifacts and tacky collectibles (Sirius hadn't been joking about the snake collection) was overwhelming.

Sirius searched around in the kitchen until he found what he had been looking for in one of the cupboards and began to gather the ingredients he would need. He poured the mix into a bowl and added the water, vegetable oil, and eggs, which were surprisingly still fresh, and then he mixed it all together.

Once he had poured the mixture into two well-greased pans, he placed them into the magically improved oven and set the timer. The whole process had only taken twenty minutes, and he expected Harry to need at least an hour for all of the memories, so he headed grumpily to the living room and began to organize the piles of junk.

By the time Harry tentatively inserted his head into the tent doorway and gaped at the surprising size, Sirius was busy shoving a four-foot souvenir vase into one of the closets. When he realized that Sirius needed help, he rushed over to him, and together they struggled the pottery piece into place and locked the door so it wouldn't burst open. Panting, they smiled at each other awkwardly. Harry was the first to speak.

"I believe you now, and I'd be honored to have you as my godfather."

Sirius beamed at him.

"Harry…I…I meant to tell you this earlier, but I couldn't find the right time. Happy Birthday. We're a few hours behind here, so it's still technically your birthday."

Harry chuckled. "Honestly, I'd completely forgotten."

"So, could I perhaps interest you in a gourmet classic to celebrate: the ever famous Betty Crocker cake?"

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds great."

-

Harry looked up from frosting his side of the cake. Black, no _Sirius_, had decorated the bottom half in Vanilla Butter Cream frosting and the top in double chocolate decadence with chocolate chips sprinkled on top. It was delicious. They had done little for the past few minutes except gorge themselves on it.

The memories had been so overwhelming for Harry that his mind was still recalling the most vivid images, taking them apart, processing…It was nice to just sit and let his subconscious do its work.

There was no question in his mind that Sirius Black was innocent, but Harry still had some questions for him. There was so much that he could tell Harry about his parents and the year that Harry had lived with them.

"Harry." Sirius was looking at him intently.

"I want you to understand what you're getting into. Living with me will be dangerous; no matter what precautions we take. You must have friends that are eager to see you…that you miss. I don't want to make you do anything you don't feel comfortable with."

Harry smiled weakly at Sirius. "Do you know what I'd be doing right now if it weren't for you? I'd be sitting in that tiny room, all alone, thinking about how I'd never see my friends or do magic again. I love my friends, but they weren't able to help me, and they didn't. You did. And besides, I want to get to know my godfather better." Sirius smiled brightly at Harry, and Harry felt reassured that he wouldn't ask him again. He did love his friends, and he missed them dreadfully, but they both knew what it felt like to have a family that cared for them; Harry didn't. Now that he had the opportunity, he wasn't going to waste it.

"Well then, there are a couple of spells that I'll need to teach you to keep you safe. I don't want you to be defenseless against the Dementors. They're heinous bastards. You'll have to learn the-"

"Dementors?" Harry interrupted him.

"Oh," Sirius seemed surprised. "Dementors guard Azkaban. They're tall, grey, hooded- not human. They live off the suffering of others."

Sirius paused to cut another slice of cake.

"They were ideal for Azkaban. The Ministry's nothing if not sadistic."

He took a bite from his newly sliced cake and then continued.

"I would never have been able to escape if a squib weren't visiting me. They sent a human guard instead to make him feel more comfortable. All I had to do change into my animagus form and overwhelm them."

"What do you change into?"

Sirius smiled fiendishly at Harry. "A great, fearsome, monstrous, hulking, rabid canine, of course. You don't believe me? I'll show you."

Sirius's body began to morph, and within seconds, a tall shaggy black dog stood in his place. He stalked menacingly over to Harry, snarling and snapping his teeth, but when his jaws were a hand's breadth away, his slimy pink tongue lolled out from his mouth, and he licked the entire left side of Harry's face. Harry laughed and wiped the slobber off with exaggerated disgust.

Once Sirius had returned to his human form he asked, "So, what was my dad?"

"Ah," Sirius smiled wistfully, "Your dad was a stag. It fit him, too. He was a bit of a ladies' man until he finally convinced Lily to go out with him. Then, Remus transformed into a wolf, and I already told you Wormtail was a rat."

"So," Harry asked, "You told me, and I saw for myself in the memory, that when Wormtail escaped, he went down into the sewer. Did they ever find him, or could he be anywhere?"

Sirius leaned back into his chair and frowned at Harry.

"Honestly, Harry, I don't know. They definitely haven't caught him because then they would have known that I was innocent, but otherwise… There are millions, if not billions or trillions of rats in Britain alone, and for all we know he has moved to a different country, assumed a new identity. All that we know for sure is that he is missing a finger. He cut it off to prove to the Aurors that he had died."

"So," Harry said slowly, "What can we do to find him, to prove that you're innocent."

"Well, there isn't really anything that we can do, except wait. If they wouldn't give me a trial when they first brought me in, they won't now that I've kidnapped you.

"But, surely if I were to testify for you…"

Sirius interrupted Harry. "If you try to tell them that I'm innocent, they'll just think I've brain washed or enchanted you-something ridiculous like that. They won't believe it unless we have solid proof- Pettigrew. He's the only way, and there's absolutely no way to find him."

Sirius stood abruptly and moved over to one of the cupboards, taking out a glass and a fat bottle.

"Harry," he said, filling the glass half way with amber liquid, "I'm going to have a quick drink and then I'm headed to bed. Why don't you take the blue bedroom? It's less leaky in there." He looked up at Harry. "Alright? I'll see you in the morning."

Harry frowned curiously at him and then said a quick goodnight before heading into the slightly smaller of the two bedrooms. It was still easily twice the size of his Privet Drive bedroom and comfortably furnished with a large bed, a bookcase, two wardrobes, and a few scattered chairs. There were no windows, so light came from the ceiling and a small nightlight on the bedside table. Harry pushed off his shoes and crawled beneath the thick blankets. For a few minutes, he warmed himself and worried about Sirius still in the kitchen, but soon, exhaustion overcame him, and fell asleep.

A/N I have never been to Brazil or anywhere in the Amazon, although I would love to, so I'm sorry if my descriptions were inaccurate. I based them off of pictures I found on the Internet.


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